


The Hours

by Lidashen



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Angst, Drama & Romance, F/M, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-10-26 03:16:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 4,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10778397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lidashen/pseuds/Lidashen
Summary: It is May 14th that Jaebum remembers everything about her. It is just her, everything about her in his mind on this day. From the 0th hour of dawn to the 24th hour of dusk.





	1. 0th Hr.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is dark. Has 24 short, very short chapters.
> 
> Inspired by The Art of Voice - Don't Speak.

* * *

  
On this special night, he decided to take her out on a night ride.

It was blue roses that he has picked for her. They have a garden full of colorful roses in the green house. Her favorite colors were: blue, red and white. “Each represent a time of the day,” she said, “Blue for the evening to cold blue night, red for passionate love in the morning and afternoon.”

“Then what is white for?” He asked.

“Hm…I just like white,” she grinned, crinkling her nose at him. He pulled her in for a kiss.

His sigh and whispers lingered in her ears, “how can blue be for cold night when your body is making me warm?”

Her hand ran down from his neck, and shoulder, tracing his collarbone, “cold at dusk, but warm at dawn. Blue at dusk, red at dawn!” her arms wrapped around his waist, and she let herself seeped in the warmth of his body.

Fogs covered the car’s windows. He stroked her messy hair,and gave her a kiss on the head. Her thigh overlapped his, and her fingers traced his chest down to his abdomen. He grabbed and pinched lightly her thigh. She looked up to him smiling with satisfaction.

He remembered her bubbly smile. Every-time they made love, she would rest her face on his chest, so he would kiss her forehead, then she looked up to him with that smile. He then replied with a kiss on the lips.

Because she loved roses that he had all kinds for her, but some can’t live at the place they reside at, thus they all have to be in the green glass house.


	2. 1st Hr.

* * *

  
The first hour of coming dawn. He suddenly awoken to the sound of footsteps. She was tiptoeing around the room, in search for something. It was that time of the night; the time of her cravings for sweets. He watched her frantically searching through all the secret places that she kept her chocolates and other snacks. She had emptied them last week, and he secretly added in more, but only at one place.

She scratched her head, taking a step back from all the drawers to count them. She gave each place a number to remember by, yet, she couldn’t find any. She remembered she restocked them earlier in the morning. She stared suspiciously at him. He was resting on his stomach over the long pillow with his phone. He feigned disinterest. She saw it right through him, he was hiding something from her. She squinted, and her eyes locked on him. He glanced at her then back to his phone, and then he steered his eyes at her again. Her lips formed into a smile.  She dashed forward and jumped on the bed; lay down on her stomach next to him.

“Where is it?” She whispered.

“What?”

“Where is it?” She whined, tugging his arm.

He smirked, continuing with the game on his phone. She leaned in to give him kisses for bribes, “You know I have to eat something at this hour, where is it? Tell me or I’ll bother you till morning.”

He sighed, turned to her, and rested his head on the pillow, “I don’t mind.” He lifted his hand up to caress her face, “Doctor said you’re not allowed to eat more sweets, especially at night, be a good girl.”

She frowned at him then looked away, “It’s just midnight snacks,” her voice trembled when she murmured.

“You can have me as a snack,” he said.

“I don’t want to have sex!”

She turned away and collapsed on the pillow, a drop of tear ran down her face. He put his phone to the side. He slithered his hand over her waist but she wouldn’t have it there, she pushed it away. He insisted, moving closer, pulling her into his arms.

“I want to give you everything,” he whispered, and she bit her bottom lip, “but–“ he paused and sighed defeatedly.

She tapped his hand and held on to his fingers.

He tightened his arms around her, “have a good night sleep.”


	3. 2nd Hr.

* * *

  
She couldn’t believed her eyes.

No, what she saw wasn’t real.

She should be home by this hour.

Yet, she was still there at the bus stop, hiding from the rain.

Her eyes sprinkled tears on her face as she sat holding onto a cream puff. And her favorite long cardigan was all tattered. It must’ve been the rose bushes that she bumped into when running out. There were a few scratches from the thorns on the back of her hand. She stared at them with anger, scratching those wounds further. It was rather relaxing for her.

He pounded on the steering wheel, threw his head back and closed his eyes to calm himself down. He hated himself. He shouldn’t have given into temptation, even for a few minutes.

He dialed the numbers again, _did she bring her phone?_ He waited impatiently. He pounded on the door of the car; letting out a loud sigh when she didn’t pick up. It was pouring outside

She cried having no ways to stop the bleeding. She didn’t want to die, not yet. She was quick witted to use the rain to wash away the blood on her hand and damped them with the sleeve of her cardigan, but there was no other way to stop the bleeding. She decided to go home to face him.

He caught a figure walking toward his car and without hesitation got out to see. His face sunk when he saw her weakened face. He breathed– _thank god she’s alright_ –but her eyes spoke of pain and distrust toward him. He tried to hold her hand but she pulled back and hid away the wounds. She wanted to tell him something, but was unable to speak up. There was no strength in her left for words, only gasps and stutters of breaths. And wet eyes that fluttered and drooped, they closed up when she collapsed in front of him. He caught her falls and held her tightly.


	4. 3rd Hr.

* * *

  
The devil hour, was it?

Had the blue rose turned red?

It had turned slightish purple.

She slept comfortably at this hour.

He got home late, but business needed to be taken care of cleanly. There was no other ways for him to make it home on time these days.

He thoroughly rinsed himself off the stains and reeks of blood. Hopefully she would not notice when he lies next to her.

He watched her calm sleeping face and listened to her rhythmic breathing. He would not let anyone hurt her, he promised. He would always be here to protect her. And she would always be here waiting for him.

He ran his finger through her hair, twirled them lightly.


	5. 4th Hr.

* * *

  
Dawn is coming.

She opened the curtain to look out to the garden. The horizon is coming, but not clearly due to the heavy fogs.

The garden looked calm and cool at this hour.

When she was deep in thoughts he would stand behind her and stared out to wherever she was staring at. She missed her family. She wanted to go home. She can never let go of these thoughts, she was sinking deep again. She fell back and hit his chest, he caught her and gave her a hug from behind.

She is home.


	6. 5th Hr.

* * *

  
The birds chirped while she happily water the roses. Carefully nipped the thorns and cut down a few buds to decorate the breakfast table. She took a whip of the flower aroma before putting them in the gold vase that was already filled with water. She carefully observed the height of each stem and their bloomed volume, then re-arranged them so they would look even, and pretty.

He came to the kitchen for a drink, but couldn’t help staring at her. He smiled when she smiled at the roses.


	7. 6th Hr.

* * *

  
The roses on the table that day, at that hour was red. Why did she choose this color at that hour that day? He wanted to ask, but what happened last time was still fresh in their minds despite it being over a month. She hasn’t spoke to him since then.

She ate when it was time to eat, slept when it was time to sleep, strolled the garden when feeling trapped. If only she would open her mouth and tells him her worries, ask him any questions and he’ll answer. Even the toughest questions – What is his occupation? Why was that woman in their room?– He would tell her everything. If only she was not so occupied with those roses.

_He hates roses._

He watched her eating her breakfast.

She stared at the roses that blocked his face.

He knows she did it on purpose. He submerged back into his seat, leaned to the side with fist supporting his cheek. He caught her eyes glancing at him. For a brief moment, those burning eyes still care for him.


	8. 7th Hr.

* * *

  
He hates roses. He should have send them away and let her cry. She would get over them sooner or later.

He reached out for a bud; looked very alluring, but the thorns were what wounded her. With that thought he plucked one right then and there. Then another one, then another one, and another with deep anger in his eyes.

She frowned, dropped her vase when she saw the rose-buds on the floor. He turned around to see her sullen face and tears strolling down. She wept, running away.


	9. 8th Hr.

* * *

  
She woke up late, and he was not home.

However, he left her red roses on the table and a prepared breakfast. It was simply French toast and some soup. Hopefully she’ll eat something when he’s out of sight. She hasn’t touch her food for three days.

She caressed the rose’s petals. They were roses in the green house, and the thorns were scraped off. She picked up her spoon and have some soup.

He hid himself out of sight, but watched eagerly. His heart beat rapidly watching her taking in each bite.

He felt safe to leave again.


	10. 9th Hr.

* * *

  
The house of the client he visited also has a rose garden, but she only has red roses. They were not as pretty as the one he has at home.

The woman took a liking to him when she saw his tenderness gaze at the roses. She wished to be looked at in such a way. So she vowed to do anything to have him.

He rejected her offers, but she refused; she must have him, and she would do anything, even harming his most beloved.


	11. 10th Hr.

* * *

  
She smiled, delighted to check up on the roses in the green house. She watered them, and trimmed them every morning. Whenever he was out of the house she was happy.

He has became a disgusting sight to her. There were no ways for him to reconcile this.

When love is gone, it’s really gone.

 

_He hates roses._


	12. 11th Hr.

* * *

  
That woman came to visit.

She was arranging a bouquet of red roses. She didn’t have anyone to send it to, but was happy to have them in her arms.

That woman smiled when coming face to face with her.

She felt a lingering sense of illness. The woman looked beautiful and demure. Last time she didn’t get a proper look, but coming face to face with her again made her feel lacking, her confident suddenly took a dive . How can she compete with this? Her hands gripped tight on the bouquet of roses.

That woman smiled and smirked and her heart couldn’t take it anymore, she turned around and went back to the green house.

The butler escorted that woman up the stairs to his study.


	13. 12th Hr.

* * *

  
That woman came to visit again. She visited wearing an even more exquisite dress than the last time.

She pricked her finger while handling the roses. She looked downcast for the past weeks, especially more whenever that woman comes to visit. She ignored him everyday, ready to freeze her heart.

That woman came to bother him. She hugged him from behind whenever he showed his back to her. He pulled her arms away. She hugged him tighter, begging for him to just give her one hour of his time.

He looked at her firing eyes, it reminded him of _her_. How _she_ would always have these burning eyes for him, how _she_ would eagerly wanted more from him, and would fight for his devotion. He missed _that_ person. That woman reached for his lips, for a kiss.

She prepared a bouquet of red roses, pacing with them in her arms. She couldn’t decide on who to give it to, but was walking toward his study. That was her first time in a long while unconsciously going to him.

That woman wrapped her arms around his neck; she leered at _her_ while caressing his shoulder. _She_ tightened her grip on the bouquet seeing his arms around that woman’s waist. That woman turned back to him for a kiss and he closed his eyes to accept her.

She looked away biting her bottom lip, squeezing the stems. She pricked her fingers with the few thorns left on them, and let out a whimper. He turned around to see her teary eyes, and body turning away. He let go of the woman but did not follow her. He watched that glimpse of her back rushing away, and her footsteps subsiding the further away she got.

His heart exploded, he couldn’t do it anymore.

She was fighting hard against her feelings for him. For whatever plan he was working on, she did not question it. She just play along, but it hurt.

 

He saw her agony; he chased after.


	14. 13th Hr.

* * *

  
He retreated from the city apartment to the rose villa whenever he has time. He missed her a lot. The first place he goes to is the Green House.

The roses were dulled. He didn’t visit for a week and now they’re half dead. The butler told him that the mistress didn’t water them, and neither did she allowed the butler to do so.

He spent his time watering them, was afraid to meet with her and have her turns and run from him again and again.

She watched him watering the roses from his study above and her face turned sour, but she could not turn away even if she so wanted. He had a gentle smile on his face when he gazed at each rose and rosebuds. He watered each bush and pot with cares.  She was angry, but at the same time longing for him. She ran down to the green house to meet him, she had something to tell him.

 

“LET THEM DIE!”

He stared wide-eye at her, a bit startle at her impulsive statement. He gulped, wanted to ask her why, but was afraid of her retorts.

“Let them die,” she repeated with a shaking voice.

He was as always calm on the outside, but his heart was racing inside. He wished to tell her everything. Would she take him back if she knows?

She looked down when he stopped the sprinklers. She hesitated for a moment with trembling lips, and ready to utter out more words, but instead she whisked around and leave.

“Why?” He called back.

She stopped, took in a deep breath then turned back to him then uttered in tears, “You don’t like roses.”

He kept his silence.

“No, that’s not true. It’s not that you don’t like roses,” she murmured to herself, “you sent me red roses during the day, blue roses at night, and white roses, you tried to keep away from me. You said you never want to use white roses for me. It’s not that you don’t like roses, you only like fresh roses,” she gasped, “The roses in this green house are not fresh, their mistress is incapable of keeping them alive, their mistress is deteriorating, they too are tired, they will have to die–“ she took a deep breath, and he ran to shut her up with kisses.

“No living things will die in this house,” he declared, giving her a tight embrace and a kiss to her head.

That woman would have to die sooner than planned.


	15. 14th Hr.

* * *

That woman was no ordinary woman. She was the daughter of a billionaire. Her father had a tobacco plantation in India, despite the family bankruptcy she was rewarded with a big chunk of inheritance for staying with the last years of his life. Her husband was a self-made multi-millionaire. He had a daughter with his late wife that she did not take a liking to.

Despite her loving that husband, it did not last long. He died of a heart-stroke at midnight, leaving her his fortune and his daughter. His daughter was sent to boarding school at the age of nine. From then on, there was no news of her, she did not bother to search for her. Many relatives of the girl believed that it was that woman that did away with her, just as she did with her father, and her mother.


	16. 15th Hr.

 

* * *

  
That woman came to visit again. She was left to explore the mansion by herself as the butler was busy preparing for the mistress’s birthday. He decided on a special midnight-blue colored cake with gold roses as accentuates, and luscious red velvet with swiss creams as fillings.

She was happy; in the middle of daylight, allowing him to make love to her in his study with unlock door. And cried out with loud moans.

That woman watched from the door; the two of them entrapped in each other body.

That woman watched as every inches of her body shook in pleasure; hearing her loud moans, seeing her caressed his nape and her toes curled in pleasure with each of his thrust.

When he picked her up to give her a kiss, she saw that woman, and her arms tightened around his neck, her legs wrapped tightly around his body; she glared at the woman while letting out loud moans. Then she whispered to him, “I want it from behind.”

That woman watched with pleasure, seeing her bend over on his desk and hearing her loud moans.

She gasped, feeling her bottom getting heated and her wrists behind her back tightly gripped by him. Bodily fluids flowed down her thighs the more excited she got.

He groaned, sweeping his hair back, sweats dripping from everywhere onto her bottoms as he pressed hard with each move. It felt so good that he drowned out his surroundings and left only her moans and cries of pleasure ringing in his ears.

  
_He hates roses, but he loves her._

And he only wants her. Yet, her only infatuation was for the roses.

It pissed him off.

With such intense thoughts clouding his mind, he was rougher than usual.

Yet, she enjoyed it so much that she let out a string of screams in pleasure.  



	17. 16th Hr.

 

* * *

  
When she was in boarding school, she met a boy that lived on the ground of the school in a moderate villa. She remembered his villa has a garden of numerous flowers, and bushes of roses. They were only white roses. When she asked him why his family only has white roses, he answered that they are for mourning. When she asked him to whom, he said, _“everybody that died.”_

She told him about her father, and he told her to pick one and put it on her father’s grave. She picked one, but told him she doesn’t know where his grave was. He pulled her over to the inner garden and showed her his mother’s grave. She placed the rose on her grave.

When she was a little bit older she moved away to another boarding school as instructed by her family. He was given his first mission. He did not succeed.  

He moved her to live with him in his mother’s mansion that he inherited. His father was against it, not just his father, but his whole family was against her, but allowed her to live in that mansion so long as he kept a distant from her. He did not go to her until he was twenty-three, well accomplished and free from his family.

Yet, it was somewhat late, the time he had with her was fleeting.  
  


 


	18. 17th Hr.

 

* * *

  
She laughed when the flours smudged on her face.

She baked a cake, it was just two tiers, the top has his favorite filling: strawberry and orange; the bottom has hers: dark chocolate and oreos. She rolled the fondant into perfect little spheres in her palms. They would be pearls for the decoration.  However, her smile disappeared when she couldn’t decide on the roses. Should she make some, or should she not? Her instinct told her to make them, and she made them all in white roses.

After it was all said and done, she placed them on the table, lit the candles, clasped her hands together, closed her eyes and made a wish.

She wished, that she wouldn’t be a burden to him.

She wished, that he would come to celebrate his birthday with her.

She waited with eyes closed for a minute, hoping that he would appear when she open them. But, when she opened her eyes, the rose icing melted due to the lit candles, and nobody was there but her, the cake, the roses and the butler.

She sighed, unclasped her hands and watched the lit candles melting the cake away.

 

 


	19. 18th Hr.

* * *

  
On his 17th Birthday, as he remembered, he was given a task as a birthday present. It was a simple task, he was trained for all  seventeen years of his life for this day. To be of use to the family, another step to that heir status.

To his dismay, his task was her; the lovely girl that he met long ago and fell in love with.

On the night of his birthday, he killed her best friend, the sole friend she had, which she deemed as the only family member she has left. To save her, he had to.

On his birthday, he couldn’t face her, never went to see her.

On his birthday, he stayed alone by himself in a room full of roses. And with his head tilted back on the sofa, eyes closed, his hand over his forehead, he pondered about her.

Imaginations overflowed: Her sleek physique, her soft skin and gentle sighs; warm lips caressing his body. How she buckled and asked for more…

He snapped back to reality when the image of her soaked in blood came to his mind. A nightmare that he couldn’t get rid of since the day he met her.


	20. 19th Hr.

* * *

She sat watching the sunset while thinking of that time in boarding school, she had a friend, a very special friend that was always around her. Everywhere she went, that friend would be, like her shadow.

When everyone gossiped about her, calling her names and making up rumors about her, that friend was the only one that stayed by her side and was always the one who came to rescue her.

That friend, was what she considered, a family.

She also remembered there was a handsome boy and his Ferrari.

He would often come by and watched her and her friend. He came by one time and asked her to go out with him.

She rejected and laughed at him. She remembered it was wrong of her to make fun of him, but he walked away with a satisfying smile.


	21. 20th Hr.

* * *

That woman came again.

Only this time, she came not for him, but for her. She came and made herself at home by going through the rose gardens and overlooking them before she crashed all the pots and crushed all the roses.

She panicked and panted when she saw her precious roses on the ground. She wanted to fight back but words couldn’t come out.  

That woman saw her vulnerability and pushed forward. She forwarded to _her_ , and each step she took, she hurled out a name, dirtying and degrading her. “You slut! Why are you alive? Why didn’t you stay dead! You she be dead like your mother!” She hissed through her teeth, “You whore! You’re only here as a sex doll! Look at your worth!” That woman put her hand on her, attempting to tear her dress, strip her naked, but she pushed the woman away.

She glared straight into the woman eyes and responded, “I will, after I disembodied you!”

He who overheard the conversation came to be intermediary.

In front of that woman, he hugged her, gave her a kiss on the head and whispered for her to be calm.


	22. 21st Hr.

* * *

She asked him to take her to see his mother’s grave. She wanted to see the white roses there.

He dreaded the idea, but to make her happy, he took her to the forbidden garden.

She picked the roses and placed them on his mother’s grave, and she prayed.

  
When they came back home, she requested to be in his embrace, _one last time._


	23. 22nd Hr.

* * *

He sat alone, not amused, not himself, brooding over her whereabouts. He had the woman brought in for interrogation. Believing that _she_ was probably abducted by her.

Which was not farfetched.

That woman kneeled in front of him, and begged.

“Please! I would never! I love you! I would never hurt her.” She grabbed onto his thighs and begged, “Forget about her, and make love to me, like the way you did with her! Please!”

He leaned forward, getting closer to her face, and he uttered, “Where, is she?”

Pissed, the woman heaved and raised her chest in dignity, “I will never tell you.” She chuckled, “She, is probably dead, like her mother!” She laughed.

He was not amused, he yanked on her collar and pulled her closer, he pulled out a knife and ran them gently on her face, “You’ve gone too far. You know who I am. Your wealth, your vanity, your dignity, if you don’t want them all ruined, then you better tell me. Or, you will be in the state of her mother, could be worst.”

That woman was strong, she did not back down, “What will you do to me? Will you?” She asked, almost pleading for him to do all that to her. She enjoyed seeing this side of him, she enjoyed being torture by him.

He smirked, but when his men came in and said they found nothing at the place, he left.

She begged after him, for him to not leave. But all he care about was _her_.


	24. 23rd Hr.

* * *

  
When the sun set, she followed the picturesque road to a forgotten garden of roses.

In front of her mother’s grave, she prayed.  
In front of her father’s grave, she prayed.


	25. 24th Hr.

* * *

He came to that woman place again. The place was dead. Its madame was found hanging in her bedroom. Her limbs were not attached, she was hanged like a puppet.

Right away, he knew. He knew that _she_ , was there. And he knew where _she_ was.

  
Along the picturesque road, there was a big bridge, she was seen ambling on the side of the bridge. In her white nightgown and her long black hair flowing along the night wind. She was not herself.

When he called out her name, she turned and looked at him with contented eyes, and blood was on her nightgown, a knife was in her hand.  
When he mouthed for her to come to him, she stood at one place and waited for him to come.  
When he forwarded, the rain sprinkling down, and she tilted her head to gaze at him.

“I killed her.” She said.

He took her by the hands, “And where are you going?” He asked in fear, fearing that if he didn’t find her, he would never ever again.

“I killed her, she was mean. I did what she did to mom. I killed her.” She wailed, “Now you don’t have to do it. You don’t have to follow orders.” She spoke as if she knows his occupation.

He gripped tightly on her wrists and asked again, “And where are you going?”

She gasped, pulling her hand away, and in the dead silent night, his lover with frighten eyes, stabbed him in the abdomen.

He gulped, looking up to her after the knife went into him. Suddenly everything went deaf and all he could made out was her shaken lips, her remorseful eyes, her shaken hands when she let go and her back when she ran away.

“No.” He mouthed when he saw her climbing the rail of the bridge, “Please, no.” He hissed, kneeling on the ground as he saw her looking back to give him a smile before she fell into the river.  
  


 

  
He hates roses, but he kept a garden full of white roses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this short piece. I wanted to give her a name midway through, but I couldn't think of an appropriate one.


End file.
